#second of all i was on a couple sites over the years that didn't have limits on that kind of thing and they definitely didn't have that

[sylas-dove]

it was weird as hell that old warriors rps made you use forum currency to have a disabled character, right?

[ckret2]

Chapter 63 of human Bill Cipher trying to debate his way out of still being the Mystery Shack's prisoner. Soos has found the stolen Journal 4 in Bill's possession and has to decide what to do about it in light of everything else he's learned about Bill lately.

[*you may notice chapter 61 is missing! This plot was done sooner, so I'll be posting chapter 61 sometime after 64. It's not chronological so you're not missing anything!]

Soos stared dumbfounded at the journal with a 4 on the cover that he'd pulled from Bill's hiding place. Ford had lost Journal 4 last fall—he'd said gnomes had stolen it. How in the world had Bill gotten it?

Soos sat in the attic window seat and flipped through it. The first few pages were Ford's journal entries—his observations of the dimensional rips they were glueing shut in Gravity Falls post-Weirdmageddon, a hand-drawn map highlighting various places around the globe he wanted to investigate, a few drawings and observations of paranormal beings he hadn't seen his first time in town, half a sketch of a gnome that ended with a jagged scribble across the page followed by a page that said "Shmebulock" over and over.

And then a page that said, in an unfamiliar handwriting of jagged, narrow gray letters: "CURSED BOOK! If your name is Mabon Mason Pines, STOP READING NOW or ENJOY YOUR HEX!"

Bill had written page after page of some weird code of gray and yellow-green dots and dashes. A few sentences in English—every one of them was a threatening message to Ford. "Everything would have been fantastic if you'd just helped me finish, Fordsy." "You'll regret not siding with me when you had the chance." "You should have known better than to let your idiot brother turn you against me." "Sixer, you're lying to yourself every time you say you never worshiped me, and you know it. You spent the first third of your life running away from the god you were raised with and the second third chasing after me. Don't waste your last third denying it. YOU'RE MINE." A small, worrying diagram of what looked like the interdimensional portal. And a sticker.

Wait, hold on.

A sticker. One of Mabel's. The rest of the page was the same as the others, the two-tone dots and dashes, except for the sticker, and an arrow drawn from one paragraph to the sticker.

A yellow smiley, its round edges filled in with black marker to make a triangle, over the words "Good job!"

Soos stared at the sticker.

####

A couple of weeks ago, Melody had texted to let Soos know that there was a mess in the upstairs bathroom, and the kids said they'd been fighting a werewolf ghost.

When Soos had gotten home the next morning, Melody had pulled him aside and quietly told him she hadn't wanted to worry him and the Stans, but she did not think it was a werewolf ghost.

When Soos saw the bathroom, he didn't think it was a werewolf ghost either.

It was a scene from a horror movie. Menacing magical sigils painted all over the walls in blood and toothpaste, Bill's zodiac painted on one mirror, the other mirror broken, glass and water all over the floor. It looked like the site of a really wet demon summoning. This contained none of the hallmarks of ghostly or werewolfish activity. Why would Bill do this?

Soos was kind of reluctant to ask Bill. Bill still sorta scared him sometimes. Sure, he looked like a lost 18-year-old, but Soos knew what teens were like in a fight. So he asked Mabel instead.

Mabel pursed her lips uncomfortably. "Ask Dipper."

So Soos asked Dipper.

Dipper winced and. "Promise you won't get mad."

Soos considered that. "Yeah, I guess that's a fair deal."

Dipper confessed that Bill got accidentally locked in the upstairs bathroom for like a whole day, because he and Mabel didn't hear him yelling. Not because they were out of the house when they shouldn't have been. They were just... somewhere else in the house. Doing something loud. For the whole day.

While Bill was trapped alone.

####

Soos had vented to Abuelita about cleaning the bathroom. Like sure, he got Bill was annoyed about being stuck, but that seemed excessive.

Abuelita had made the observation that sometimes people in profoundly bleak and oppressive situations would just... destroy whatever was around them. Like punching a hole in the wall or snapping a pencil when you were angry, but much more so. Not because they wanted their surroundings to be destroyed, but because that was the last and only thing they had power over, and they needed to feel like they were in control of something. Even if that thing was merely changing their environment from ordered to chaotic.

Bill didn't have control over very much. He probably hadn't since he died. Soos didn't know what kind of space triangle afterlife Bill had been in before he showed up as Toga Lady, but it couldn't have been great if he'd come straight back here.

Soos could remember the one time weeks ago he'd let Bill into the bathroom to shower and forgotten to come back and let him out. How Bill had screamed so all the Mystery Shack's tourists could hear; how he'd seethed in Soos's face, how he'd said he'd rather blow their collective cover and throw them all on the mercy of the town's law enforcement than remain locked in the bathroom a second longer than they'd agreed upon. Soos had thought Bill was just impatient and hotheaded.

Standing in the bathroom, looking at the material evidence of Bill's claustrophobic terror—the broken glass, the spilled blood—he wondered.

####

The same day, he had felt a breeze in the gift shop and found the trap doors to the roof left open. He'd climbed up, shut them, and in between tours he'd visited his office to check yesterday's security tapes. 

He saw Wendy coming into the shack to hang out the morning before. That was fine. Soos had discovered she did that from time to time on days the shack was closed, but she wasn't doing anything bad and she hadn't brought it up yet, so Soos didn't bring it up either. Maybe she just needed a private place to hang. Teen stuff. He was just glad Wendy felt that safe at the Mystery Shack. Maybe she'd just gone up to hang out on the roof and forgot to shut the trap doors...

And then, right there on screen, Soos saw Bill letting himself into the gift shop, through the door, which he shouldn't be able to open. A chill shot up Soos's back. The door curse was their only real means of containing Bill. If he could use doors now, he was out, there was no way they could trap him without doing something crazy like locking him in the bunker and hoping he didn't kill himself.

Or could he use doors? Soos thought back to the frantic messages on the bathroom wall, written in Bill's own blood—his desperation over being unable to escape. Maybe he could use doors but not doorknobs. That was okay, maybe?

On tape, he saw Wendy run into Bill. He saw Wendy take Bill onto the roof. Out in the open air, where he could just... do whatever. But he didn't do whatever. Soos fast-forwarded the tape until Wendy and Bill came back down, and Bill simply returned to the living room.

He'd had the perfect opportunity to shove Wendy off the roof or escape. He didn't take it.

If all Bill was using his new door skills for was ducking into the gift shop and hanging out on the roof with Wendy, Soos thought maybe it would be kinda mean to take that away from him. There weren't a lot of other places Bill could go in the shack. (Soos kept seeing the blood on the bathroom wall. He kept trying to imagine what kind of helplessness would drive someone that far.) Maybe Bill needed the open air.

So Soos had put the security tape on his desk, not sure what to do about it.

####

A couple of day after that, while Soos was restocking the gift shop in between waves of tourists, he'd seen Wendy reading an oddly dull-looking booklet instead of one of her usual magazines. He tilted his head to glance at the cover. The Oregon state driving manual. "Aw dude, gonna get your learner's permit?"

"Think so," Wendy said. "Don't tell my dad."

Soos remembered Wendy groaning about her dad wrangling her into doing errands if she ever got her license. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks."

"What made you change your mind? You were totally against getting a license a week ago."

"It's probably those stupid Gleeful Auto commercials that have been worming into my dreams." Wendy laughed. "I'm just waking up in the morning like, neeeed caaar."

"Oh yeah! Heh, funny coincidence, Melody says she had a dream like that too. Sometimes she gets these like, dreams about monsters watching her in bed? But one time, the monster was Bud Gleeful, whispering in her ear about a big car sale. She totally woke up laughing!"

"Ha! Annoying car commercials should be banned, man. Why do we need to be told multiple times a day to spend thousands of dollars?"

"You make a salient point."

They fell silent for a moment as Wendy read a couple more paragraphs. Then she said, "That, plus... I was talking to Goldie the other day."

Soos looked up from the t-shirt he'd been putting on a clothes hanger. "Oh. Yeah?"

"About where we wanna go when we get out of town."

"Huh." Very casually, Soos asked, "What did Goldie say?"

"He wants to go on some big vacation. Like a world cruise or something, I dunno."

"Huh." Soos wondered if that was true. He tried to imagine Bill Cipher as a tourist. Floating triangle in a Hawaiian shirt with a camera hanging from a strap and a fanny pack. What kind of places would he even visit? Soos bet he wanted to visit the pyramids. Heh. (Was that stereotyping? Maybe that was stereotyping.)

"And I told him I'm moving to Portland for college."

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were thinking about college."

"I... actually, never told anybody else before," Wendy said. "I've been thinking about it for years, but part of me felt like it's just a fantasy? But Goldie said when he got out of high school, he did the same thing—moved to another town, made a new group of friends, all that. And... I don't know, actually talking to him out loud about it just... made it feel real, you know? So I thought, if I'm gonna move to Portland, I should probably start planning for it. Starting with how I'm getting there." She held up the driving manual.

Soos nodded slowly. "Huh. Yeah. That's a pretty mature way to look at it."

And that was what Bill was talking to Wendy about on the roof? Just... listening to a teen vent and helping her figure out her future?

And so, Soos took the security tape off his desk and put it in a drawer.

####

A few days later, Soos had heard the downstairs bathroom sink running for several minutes, assumed someone had forgotten to turn it off, and went to turn it off himself—and had caught Bill, in the dark, half undressed, washing himself in the sink.

After Soos had backed out and profusely apologized, he'd asked, "But—how come you're washing in the sink? I can let you in the upstairs bathroom if you need—"

"Worry about your own grooming habits and leave mine alone," Bill snapped. "As long as I don't smell, what do you humans care how I do it. Soap is soap and water is water."

It took Soos several days to realize he didn't think Bill had had a shower since he got locked in the bathroom. And nobody had noticed, because Bill made sure nobody noticed, because he'd been keeping himself clean in the bathroom he couldn't get locked in.

####

Dipper would go all summer without showering if he could get away with it; Stan showered like once a week and had constant old man smell; Abuelita also showered weekly and had a more refined old lady smell; Soos didn't know when Ford showered, but he'd never caught him doing it and Ford always smelled weirdly like burned hair. Soos showered almost daily during tourist season—that Mr. Mystery suit was hot—but outside that might go three days at a time. Mabel showered near daily.

From what Soos had observed, Bill was showering like, at least twice a week. He didn't know how often Bill cleaned himself in the sink in between.

That meant he was showering more often than two-thirds of the house.

Yet he was the only one in the house living under the threat of being thrown in the tub at 3 a.m. if someone decided he hadn't bathed enough for their tastes.

The reason Bill had refused to shower during his first week of imprisonment was so he could use the condition of his body as a bargaining chip—with no physical possessions in the world, his own body was the only bargaining chip he had—to try to buy a little more dignity. In return, his captors had taken more dignity away. They permitted Bill less autonomy over how to take care of his body than the household's children had.

Dipper had never gotten forced into a bathroom he couldn't let himself out of.

####

The day after the eclipse, Ford had pulled Soos aside and said quietly, "Soos, as soon as you have some time—could you repair the door to the kids' room? Before the end of the day? The latch has been broken since the tooth fairy's attack."

"Uh, sure, I can probably do that," Soos said. "How come?" The latch had been broken for a couple weeks, and the Pines hadn't been worried about it before.

"Right now, the door can swing freely with just a push," Ford said. "I think Bill's figured out how to use that to get in. Which is worrisome, since he shouldn't be able to use any doors..."

"O-oh." Soos thought about the swinging door into the gift shop. "Yeah, uh... sounds bad. Byyy the way—how'd you figure out he knows how to use the door?"

"Dipper says Bill somehow got in and out of the room last night," Ford said. "Mabel fell asleep in the living room and Bill carried her upstairs. I really don't like the thought of Bill being able to get his hands on the kids while they're asleep and defenseless."

Ford was mad at Bill for tucking a kid into bed? That was the big red flag? "No problem! I'll fix the door right after work."

The next time Soos visited his office, he took the security tape out of his drawer, rewound it, stuck it back into the tape recorder, and let that day's security camera footage overwrite and erase the evidence of Bill's visit to the gift shop.

####

And now, today, carrying Journal 4 in both hands, Soos trudged downstairs, trying to figure out what to do with it. He had to return it to Ford, obviously—but Bill and the Stans were already in the middle of a discussion that sounded a lot more like an argument. Flinging a stolen journal into the middle of the proceedings would just make it worse. Maybe he should wait until they were finished and everyone had cooled down a little—?

While Soos was upstairs, the discussion had apparently moved into the kitchen. He hovered awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, watching.

"What do you mean, you need kitchen access," Stan was asking, "you already have kitchen access. It's never been off-limits! Even after you peed in the sink!"

"It's not kitchen access if I need to ask someone else for permission to eat anything but snacks." 

"No one's making you ask for permission! You can take what you want!"

"Okay, fine. So what can I eat?" Bill gestures at the shelves. "Go on. List anything you can think of. Anything."

Stan grimaced, and glanced at Ford to see if he was willing to walk into the obvious trap first.

Ford looked at the nearby shelves. "Cereal."

"One point for Stanford Pines! Cereal! So am I supposed to eat dry cereal for every single meal, or—?"

"No, of course not."

"All right, then what else?"

"Brown meat," Stan said. "We've got plenty of brown meat. It's good for you!"

"You didn't give me can opener rights," Bill said.

"Huh."

"So no brown meat," Bill said. "No canned soup, no canned chili, no canned fruit, no canned vegetables—"

Ford cut in, "Some of the cans have pull tabs, you don't need a can opener for those."

"Terrific observation! As soon as you realized I could open those cans myself, you moved them all under the counter because you thought I'd use the sharp edges as weapons!"

"It's... possible to open cans without a can opener, I did it sometimes while roughing it in other dimensions—"

"Yeah, wearing off the metal rim with a rock, right? Lemme just go outside and grab a rock—oh wait." Bill crossed his arms.

Ford sighed, and turned to Stan to suggest something else.

Stan surveyed the available supplies, spotted the bread, and said, "You could make sandwiches!"

"With what filling?"

"Uh..." Stan kept looking.

Meats and cheeses, of course, were kept in the fridge. Along with jelly, condiments, most vegetables... tuna or spam weren't options, they were canned... "Hey, we leave out some meats that don't need refrigeration. Sausages and stuff."

"Right, right. The ones that don't need refrigeration because they're wrapped in plastic you need a knife to cut," Bill said. "Sometimes I bite the plastic open with my teeth and rip off chunks of sausage with my fingernails, that's always fun! Then you put the leftovers in the fridge, and I'm out of luck until we buy another sausage."

"You could put... peanut butter on your sandwiches?" Ford tried. "Peanut butter's nutritious."

Bill fixed him with a hard look. "For the past five weeks, every time I've gotten a meal without asking someone else to help feed me like a baby, I've had nothing but peanut butter and banana sandwiches, peanut butter and jerky sandwiches, peanut butter and raisin sandwiches, and peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches. And we're out of bananas, jerky, and raisins." He pointed at the tortillas. "Once I decided to get creative and made myself a cold peanut butter quesadilla! I can't even add spices, because guess where the breakable glass spice jars are kept?"

"Pasta," Ford tried. "We could keep the pasta out."

"Oh, wow, that'd be great! I just love pasta! But I can't open the microwave and I can't turn on the stove! How do I heat the water, Stanford?"

Ford frowned. "Hm."

"I can cook, you know—not that any of you bothered to ask! It might not suit your tastes, but it suits mine! I wouldn't need your help to eat if you didn't make me need help! I am sick to death—" his voice went thick and took on an uncharacteristic waver, "—of having to beg to... eat." He cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed his eyelids with one hand. "Sh-shouldn't even—need to eat." He clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling.

Stan and Ford exchanged a guilty look. Stan said, "You don't have to beg— I mean, we know the, uh... position you're in..."

Bill was silent for a moment as he tried to get a tough face back on. His voice came out as a rough whisper—too thick to get any louder without breaking. "I had to negotiate to get burnt eggs."

Ford winced.

Soos was dumbfounded.

When had Bill had to negotiate for food? He could all too easily understand how it might have happened—Bill was an annoying guy, sometimes they had to pull out dumb bargains to get him to do stuff. But bargaining for food should never be on that list. Meeting Bill's basic nutritional needs couldn't be dependent on whether he was annoying that day. If it was, he'd starve.

It sounded like he was starving. Right under Soos's roof. He hadn't even noticed.

He thought about the piles of junk food trash upstairs and the bag of chips Bill had hurled across the room.

Ford said, "We'll... discuss it."

"We'll figure something out," Stan said. "I mean it."

Bill nodded silently. Head down, without uncovering his eyes, he hurried out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

He nearly bumped into Soos's chest without noticing him. Soos backed up a step, tucking Journal 4 under his arm. "Whoa, hey!"

Bill froze, head jerking up. "You." His voice was thick and his glare was watery and poisonous. "Don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop?" He tried to elbow past Soos, smacking his leg with his umbrella. "Move."

Soos realized uneasily that Bill's face looked a little slimmer than it had when he'd arrived.

He stepped in Bill's way. "Can't go upstairs right now. Attic's being cleaned."

"I didn't ask you to clean!"

"I'm not cleaning for you, dawg. It's just gotta be cleaned."

"Fine! Whatever!" Bill veered around the staircase and stomped down the hall, muttering, "Can't decide when I eat, can't decide when I shower, why should I get to choose when my hovel's swept..."

Soos's leg hurt where Bill had smacked it. (Bill couldn't even control whether or not he cried; all he had control over was making someone else hurt.)

In the kitchen, Stan murmured, "Didn't even realize we don't keep anything decent out on the counters. They're so crowded..."

"Chip bags take up a lot of space." Ford sighed. "I assumed he'd get a serving with everyone else whenever Mrs. Ramirez cooks."

"He does, but she only does dinners. And he'll only eat it if he watched her cook it. I've seen him get lunch with Mabel, but I don't know what he does when she's not..." Stan spotted Soos on the stairs. He tiredly called, "Soos? You need something?"

"Uhhh..." Soos hid the journal behind his back. "Nope! I just thought I'd come downstairs! For no reason." He awkwardly walked up the stairs backwards, journal still tucked behind him. "And—and now I'm going up again." He stopped at the landing and scooted sideways up the next flight of stairs. "See ya."

He pressed the journal to his chest and returned to the attic.

####

When Soos and Abuelita moved into the shack, the first thing Soos had done was turn Ford's ground-floor study into a bedroom for Abuelita. Because she was a little old lady, and not quite as steady as she used to be, so Soos didn't want her constantly going up and down the stairs—because falling once, just ONCE, could send her to the hospital or worse. That was how serious it was! You don't mess around with that!

Bill tripped and fell on the stairs so often that they could use it to tell when he was awake. And nobody had thought to offer him a cane? Did anybody even ask if he was alright?

When Bill first arrived and tried to murder everyone, naturally, he came out of it pretty banged up and bruised. That was to be expected. It was self-defense. They'd gotten used to seeing Bill with scrapes on his arms and legs, rope burns around his ankles, and the angry purple-black bruises of chain links over his arms. But in all the weeks since then, Soos hadn't seen Bill bruise-free once. Bruises on his shins and arms, scrapes on his elbows and knees. Soos had seen him with a four-inch burn on his forearm. Bill had brushed it off.

In Bill's first few days in the shack, he'd resorted to peeing in the kitchen sink because nobody had bothered to give a guy who couldn't open doors a way to use the bathroom. And they were the reason he couldn't open doors in the first place!

He threw up in the living room in the middle of the night and went upstairs to sleep on couch cushions on the floor and nobody had talked about it.

He burned off all his hair and was so upset about it that he stole Soos's zodiac blanket and hid under it for half a week, and everyone but Mabel just ignored him.

In less than a month in the Mystery Shack, Bill had lost a tooth.

He had been dragged out of the house during a weird weather phenomenon while terrified out of his mind. Soos had seen Bill cowering on the ground in fear, Ford looming over him, grabbing him by the collar and snarling in rage. Bill had been pleading with everyone in hearing range not to make him go, and had come back in such a state of shock he could hardly walk. 

And yet, he'd protected the whole town from getting hurt in zero gravity—and he'd brought a pet for Soos.

They'd tried to execute Bill two days later.

####

Soos sat in the window seat, flipping through the remaining filled-in pages in Journal 4. The last few pages were packed with stickers. A cat that said PURRFECT! A smiling fish that said A REEL PAL! Bill had started a little collection of pizza slice stickers for some reason. A couple of holographic rainbows, a smiling scratch-and-sniff sun. (Apparently, the sun smelled like lemons and oranges. Astronomy facts!)

Soos reached the current page. Bill was using several pieces of paper—regular printer paper and notebook paper, folded in half—like a bookmark. Soos unfolded them. A list of animals ranked by fuzziness. (Soos was satisfied that he'd been placed under the "smooth and squishy" category, but wondered whether he should be bothered by the fact that he shared the category with pigs and slugs.) A drawing of Bill riding a looping rocket ship and waving a fishbowl helmet above him. A drawing of a blue house with a couple of kids and a pig in the window. Several drawings of shape people kinda like Bill: a pink heart person labeled "Me in Flatworld," a stern-looking red stop sign wearing sunglasses labeled "Bill's parole officer," Bill dancing, the pink heart protecting Bill from some villainous-looking shapes—all clearly Mabel's art.

Several notebook pages in someone else's handwriting detailing names, addresses, and contact information, with statements Soos couldn't make sense of—as if maybe someone had been asking somebody else questions and writing down their answers. He thought the questions might be about how some people had reacted to the end of Weirdmageddon. He got the impression the people being discussed had known that Weirdmageddon was coming. He got the impression they were disappointed it hadn't happened. There were several questions at the end: How will we rendes-vouz? (Whoever was writing didn't know how to spell rendezvous, but to be fair Soos wasn't 100% sure either.) What supplies do you need? What are your interim orders?

Soos stared at the notebook papers.

He flipped back through the journal again, looking at each page more closely.

Sometimes the two-tone dot-and-dash segments had a stray human word: a few characters he recognized from his Teach Yourself Japanese workbooks, sometimes words Soos thought might be Arabic but honestly he didn't have a clue. At one point he listed half a dozen human names that Soos didn't recognize. The most common character was a stretched-out letter M (Mabel?), followed by a 6 knocked on its side (Sixer?).

The dot-and-dash segments had occasional amateurish illustrations. Sometimes they were human stick figures; sometimes the stick figures' heads had symbols off of Bill's zodiac wheel. He saw Stan's fish symbol, Gideon's star symbol, and Mabel's shooting star symbol. Ford's stick figures were the only ones with hands; Bill consistently gave them six fingers. The doodles were like particularly esoteric cave drawings; they were so bad that Soos couldn't tell what most of them were supposed to illustrate.

Except for one featuring Bill (as a triangle) and Mabel and some other inscrutable figures in a really awesome car with flames on the side, its coolness limited only by the fact that it was all in gray and yellow-green crayon. When Soos had been in high school, there had always been a couple of kids who didn't know how to draw anything except expensive cars or name-brand sports shoes, but they drew them in extreme realistic detail. Apparently, Bill was that kind of artist. Nothing but stick figures and the sickest crayon car Soos had ever seen.

It didn't do anything to dispel Soos's impression of Bill as a lost alien 18-year-old.

On one page, in sloppy lines of handwriting that meandered drunkenly up and down the paper, Bill had written, "I don't get why you won't give me a second shot. I asked you to join my gang. I serenaded you in a pyramid. I got a fantastic makeover. I offered you godhood. I showed you my dimension. I didn't torture you until I had to. I even made you a skin couch! I know how much you've always wanted a leather furniture set! I've given you everything from chicken zombification magic to jelly beans, what does it take? What am I missing?"

Soos reread Bill's other messages to Ford. All that "you'll regret not siding with me" junk wasn't threats. It was the impotent rage of a socially inept teenager who didn't understand his own creepiness had driven his friends away. It was the whiny moan of some guy going "Why doesn't she like me anymore" about an ex-girlfriend who had told him five times she didn't like him anymore because he didn't listen to her. Like that guy Wendy dated last summer. So like, a jerk, but not a terrifying world-ending monster jerk, just an annoying creep jerk. A regular jerk. A human jerk.

Soos stood, gave one last look at this journal—clearly stolen, definitely a violation of Bill's "no writing materials" restriction, completely stuffed full of mysterious messages to outsiders and some kind of weird alien code that could say anything at all and might have been super dangerous—and he slid it back into the ripped seam in the attic seat cushion where he'd found it.

He finished vacuuming up the potato chips Bill had flung across the room, thinking about how offended Bill had been that Soos had given him any food except what he'd asked for, remembering what Abuelita had said about people who destroy the things around them when they feel like that's the last and only thing they still have power over.

Enough was enough.

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed! Next week we may interrupt our regularly-scheduled programming to post a TBOB-based chapter I'm inserting early into the fic—it depends on if I get it done by next Friday. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this chapter!)

[sanctus-ingenium]

we need to talk about Inprnt.com

Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.

First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.

(top right print is not from inprnt though)

They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.

Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.

Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.

And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.

Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:

Note the date.

Almost two months.

And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.

It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.

So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.

It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.

As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).

[aothotties]

Just some headcanons about your local Farmer Reiner. ❤️

Warnings: None, smut in future parts.

჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ

* Farmer!Reiner who took control of his parents ranch when he graduated from highschool.

* Farmer!Reiner who has a pretty black stallion named Onyx.

* Farmer!Reiner who drives a big ass black pickup truck that's his pride and joy.

* Farmer!Reiner makes extra money on the side by selling produce, dairy, eggs, (etc.)

Farmer!Reiner see you for the very first time at the local farmers market.

჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ

Reiner isn't a social butterfly by any means, but when his mother “gently” recommended that he set up a booth at the market, he couldn't exactly tell her no. He won't admit it now, but he’ll always thank his mom for forcing him to socialize.

You catch his eye when you, another woman and a young boy walk into the market. The little boy runs ahead of you both and up to the stand.

Reiner gives the little man a smile and you follow behind him while letting out a huff.

“Junior you know better than to run off like that!” You scold him and he giggles mischievously in return.

“I’m sorry, he didn't break any of the eggs or something did he?” You look around the table with concern and Reiner shakes his head to ease your worries.

“No, not at all. He's so fast I was afraid he was gonna knock me over!” The statement brings another giggle out of the curly haired boy, Reiner squats down to his level and holds a hand out.

You watch as your nephew shakes hands with the older man and you can't help but feel your heart swoon at the sight. Your sister waddles up behind you with more samples than when you last saw her.

“What happened?” She asked with a mouth full of fruit.

You roll your eyes and point to your nephew with the handsome man that you can't stop sneaking glances at.

“Reiner! Him and Ony used to work together at the construction site. We haven't seen him in years.” He looks up and his eyes widen in surprise, your sister greets him with open arms.

You and Junior stand to the side while they both catch up. You take a moment to look around at the items he's selling, you pick up a small carton of eggs and add it to the basket on your arm.

Your thoughts are cut off at the sound of your name coming from the conversation nearby.

“This is my sister YN, she's moving in right next door to Ony and me!”

He holds out a hand for you and you happily return the gesture with a handshake to match.

Reiner feels like a boy in one of those cliche films where the main couple falls in love at first sight, except he's almost positive this isn't a cliche.

When your hands touch he swears that he can feel time slow down. He takes these few seconds to get a proper look at you, making sure not to stare too hard. Can you blame him? Your black dress is hugging your bodys curves perfectly, your afro frames your angelic face like nothing he's ever seen before. And your voice, oh its like listening to birds sing on a sunny day.

The corner of his lips turn upward at the sound of your chuckle, he releases your hand from his grasp when he realizes he's been shaking it much longer than he needs to be.

“Sorry about that, I got a little distracted. Its good to meet you Ms. YN.” You shrug it off and smile fondly, Junior tugs on your dress and points to the eggs in the basket.

“Oh yeah, how much is a half carton of eggs?” You hold them out for him to take and he politely waves it off.

“Its on the house, any friend of Ony is a friend of mine.”

If you weren't feeling any sparks before, you're for damn sure feeling something now.

“That’s so sweet of you, if they're any good i’ll be back for more.” You say in a somewhat playful, but more so teasing tone.

“Trust me sweetheart, I’ll have you back here every week.”

[magics-neptunes-things]

Sueño Contigo

Hello everyone! This is a new one, I would like to repeat that my native language is not English but French, so I apologize if there are any grammaticals errors.

Enjoy!

PART 2 IS HERE

____________________________________________________________

You were laughing in the locker room with your teammates when you felt your phone vibrate in your bag. You take it, smiling as you hear them continue to jump happily. The game was hard, but you win this important game for your team.

As usual, your heart skips a beat when you see the name and photo of your interlocutor on your screen. Ona put a picture of herself, showing her pulling out her tongue. You get up, get out of the locker room and close the door before leaning against the wall.

"Hola" you said, grinning.

"Hola" answers the deep voice of your crush. You could litteraly die for her voice. "Great game"

You smile again at her compliment, before thanking her. Tonight you have play an important game for your team, scoring the winning goal. You weren't playing far from Ona's location, but she can't made it on time to Liverpool so she just watch you play on TV with some of her teammates.

---

Flashback, 20 minutes ago

"She's amazing" whispers Ona, more for herself than for others while she watch you cheering for your 89 minutes goal.

She can't ignore the strange feeling that twists her stomach seeing how close your new teammate is to you physically. She's a rookie and you talk about her to Ona sometimes, not realising how jealous it made her. To your defence Ona didn't say anything.

To her defence, she doesn’t think she has the right because your relationship isn't really official. You and her have an on and off relation since you were teenagers. You met Ona in Barcelona and always have the same path in your career, except you stayed in Barcelona when she went to Madrid and Levante. You signed up to City the same year she signed up to United and then you took a shared apartment located just between your two training sites.

With two bedrooms, because even if you have occasional makeout session, you weren't a couple right now. Even if that’s all you want, being a couple, you just accept what Ona gives you, preferring to have it like this in your life rather than not at all. You couldn't imagine your life with her.

"Who's that girl?" ask Millie, putting Ona’s feet back on the ground.

"Some rookie" grumble Ona in a low voice, making Ivana smile.

The feelings you have towards Ona are shared and all of her teammates are aware. Even if she never said it, it is so obvious that it would serve no purpose to deny.

"Well she look kind of whipped with Y/N" Millie add, making Ona face darkened.

The said rookie doesn’t seem to want to let go of your waist, continuing to congratulate you. Ona sinks into the couch, crossing her arms over her chest and hiding under the hoodie she stole from you.

Full of empathy, Ella leans over to her, whispering to her so that no one else can hear her.

"It's maybe time to get your girl, Ona. Before it's too late."

---

"Are you coming home tonight?" Ona ask you.

You hum, hearing some of your teammates singing behind you.

"I don't know... Some of them want to go out to celebrate and they want me to go with them"

You were in Liverpool, not far from Manchester actually. But if you drink alcool you will probably stay in an hotel room. Ona already knew that. Not getting an answer after a few seconds, you take the screen off your ear to check that the call has not been cut.

"Ona?"

"Will the rookie be here?" she asks.

"Don't call her that" you answer, rolling your eyes. You never understood why Ona seems so piss of off her. "I don't know, maybe"

"You don't seems to really want to go thought" Ona points, making you sigh.

She's not wrong, you don't really like go to nightclubs. You’d rather stay home, preferably with your roommate. And if cuddles are added, this is the recipe for your favorite evenings.

"I don’t really have a good excuse not to go" you shrug after biting your lip.

New seconds of silence are passing, but this time you hear Ona’s breathing at the other end of the line. You know her so well, you feel like she’s stressed.

"What if..." she begins, her voice breaking in the middle of her sentence. "What if you tell them you’re going home to your girlfriend?"

It's your turn to be silenced. Your heart skips a beat before running faster than your sprint to go and score some minutes ago.

"Girlfriend?" you repeat in a low voice.

"Yes... If you want to?"

Ona seems to doubt your answer and it seems incredible to you that she does not suspect for a second that a real fireworks began in your brain.

"Ona, all I want right now is kissing you"

Laia, who passed her head through the door at that moment while searching you, had perfect timing. She goes back inside smiling. She is probably the biggest shipper of your non-couple. Well it seems possible to change tonight.

You hear Ona giggle, the sound itself making you smile.

"So come back to me please"

"I'll be here in one hour" You promise, already ready to hung up.

In fact you push yourself off the wall to get into the locker room and get your stuff as soon as possible.

"Cariño" you hear Ona's voice calling you from your phone.

"Yes?"

"Drive safely please"

"Always" you smile before hanging up this time, a big smile on your face.

When you enter the locker room, you meet Laia's gaze and she winks at you. At this very moment, you know that she will find you every possible excuse to help you return to Ona as discreetly as possible.

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part six

part seven: i slept all alone

Steve had been getting into the rhythm of a new set and being without Robin for the first couple of weeks of production. He wasn't as deer in the headlights as he had expected but he did feel somewhat distant from the rest of the cast who all had connections dating back years. Steve took his time getting to know everyone and by the end of the second week he felt less like a pity invite to going out in the small Italian town and more like one of the group. He still respectfully declined the invite so he wouldn't miss out on his approximately one hour of social media time he allowed himself to keep to the general spirit of the director's rules.

Steve didn't mind being generally unplugged but he did really like to keep up with what his kids were doing and he felt like he was at least a little obligated to see how Robin and Nancy were getting on without him present for cover. The kids kept their whatsapp group chat to a relatively manageable level during the week leaving a few tidbits here and there for Steve to catch up on and after Steve felt mostly caught up he'd provide a short little update of what his week was like. Usually no one got back to him super quickly as it was mid-day in the states and most of the kids were at work or busy and Robin and Nancy were usually a bit tied up in each other if they didn't have any other obligations. Steve didn't mind though because next week like clockwork he'd have several follow up questions and encouraging notes about his update before the group chat chatter turned to whatever else had happened.

Once Steve had caught up with whatsapp he started scrolling through instagram and noticed he had a few tagged posts. Some were just the usual gossip sites taking random paparazzi photos to add to a weekly roundup of where famous people were summering or similar nonsense but he saw a photo of Robin and Nancy he most certainly was not expecting to see come up on his feed.

buckley guess the cat's out of the bag. srry i'm not cool and romantic like my new partner (!!!) but it's pretty great not to have anxiety attacks that i didn't actually turn on close-friends or worry that some waiter read into nance and i's behavior too much. thnx steve-o for keeping this under wraps for way longer than you had to and for being the best scene partner / rumored lover a girl could ask for. hurry back from italy so you can third wheel us in public, dingus.

Steve double checked the time in the US and called up Robin. She had some explaining to do.

part eight

***super short update because i am sick but i wanted to keep the story moving! just wanted to show a quick glimpse of Steve seeing Robin's post. depending on how the story is going the next part might be Steve and Robin's phone call or back to Eddie trying to get his shit together***

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast @mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 @adealwithher @practicallybegging @lunaraquaenby @stripey82 @lexyvey @goodolefashionedloverboi @mothmamhasyourlocation @mugloversonly @sherrylyn0628 @steddieinthesun @wonderland-girl143-blog

(if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

Growing up suits you (Spencer Reid x GN!Reader)

Imagine graduating from high school with Spencer Reid and years later working on a case with him.

Word count: 600ish

Look at that, a blurb that actually stayed a blurb.

Warning: smoking (herbal cigarettes) and mentions of teenage drug use

You had driven two hours to the middle of nowhere Georgia because your boss had invited the BAU into your investigation. It wasn't how you wanted to spend the day but you could either complain or catch your serial killer. Not both. You chose the second one, so you drove down from Atlanta to meet the BAU at the site of the newest crime scene in a spree of murders over the past year.

When you stepped out of the SUV you took in the scene.

There were small crowds of people looking in, not so many that it was distracting but enough that the local PD had to have officers keeping the crowd back. You showed your credentials to get in and walked up to who you recognized as SSA Aaron Hotchner, the BAU's unit chief.

"Agent Hotchner" You called out, getting the man's attention.

"Agent L/N" Hotch greeted, shaking you hand and leading you to the where the rest of his team were huddled.

"Guys, this is special agent Y/N L/N from the Atlanta field office" Hotch introduced.

"Agent L/N, these are SSA's Rossi, Morgan, Jerau, Prentiss and Dr. Spe—" Hotch wasn't even able to finish before you cut him off.

"Spencer Reid. Wow, it has been a long time" You said and you saw him searching his brain for where you knew him from before recognition flashed through his eyes.

"Last time I saw you you were much shorter and had just gotten your first breakout" You said and his cheeks flushed.

"I was 12" He said quietly and you chuckled.

"I'm sorry, you two know each other?" Rossi asked and you smirked.

"We graduated high school together" You answered and Morgan looked very curious to ask what you were sure would be very embarrassing questioned before Hotch cleared his throat.

"Agent L/N led the preliminary investigation with the Atlanta field office and will be working with us on this case" He said and you all went back to work.

---

You stood on the roof of the local precinct, coat wrapped around you and a cigarette between your index and middle fingers.

"You still smoke" Spencer said as he walked across the flat roof to stand beside you.

"It's herbal, I quit tobacco a couple years ago" You told him and took a puff.

"Herbal cigarettes are actually just as harmful as tobacco products. Even without the tobacco the herbs in the cigarette burn and create tar, carbon monoxide and about 73 other toxins, 40 of which can cause cancer" Reid said and you laughed.

"Right, I'll put this out then" You said, putting out the cigarette on the edge of the roof.

"You didn't have to do that" He said but you shrugged.

"wouldn't wanna expose you to the dangers of secondhand smoking" You joked.

The two of you stood in a somewhat silence for a while. You'd just given the local police your profile and as soon as you finished you'd gone out.

"How's your mom?" You asked.

"She's good. Still back in Las Vegas. How's your brother?" He asked in return.

"He's good. He's in a band touring with some singer, I can't remember who" You said and then silence again.

"So, the team" You said and he flushed.

"I'm sorry about the questions" He said.

"Don't worry about it, they just wanna know more about you. It seems like you all don't tell each other much about your pasts— and you don't have to— they're just curious about you" You said and he nodded.

"High school's not exactly a time I like remembering" Spencer admitted and you nodded. You remembered what he went through. The bullying, the humiliation, you couldn't imagine it. Not that your high school career was particularly pleasant but his was so much worse.

"I understand" You said and smiled, deciding to find a lighter subject.

"But you grew up well, that height suits you" You said and you saw the blush rise to his cheeks.

"Thanks, you uh— you you look really good too" He said.

"We should get in, I can't tell if it's my compliments that are making you that red or the chill" You joked and Spencer was slightly too embarrassed to say anything as he followed you back into the precinct.

[spooky-bunnys]

I have this angsty haikyuu request if you’re alright with writing it

So (name) has a crush on Ryu but the problem is that Ryu doesn’t return the feelings for (name) instead Ryu has his heart set on kiyoko which would send (name) in a unrequited love situation and trying to forget and get rid of his feelings for Ryu even though it pains him to see Ryu being happy with someone else. (name) knows he and Tanaka would never be together he struggles with dealing with it

The sound of volleyballs hitting the gym floor filled the gym. Sugawara frowned softly at site of his oldest friend looking so upset. (Name) had asked Tanaka if he wanted to hang out after practice, unfortunately he was ignored again.

Sugawara slowly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" (Name) didn't answer, just stared as the male he's grown to love, chase after the other manager. (Name)'s heart breaking more and more. He'd grown to love the rowdy male with everything he has.

Sugawara sighed and softly grabbed (Name)'s arm. Pulling him away slowly. Trying to get him away from the scene. Most of the other players watched in pity. Except Tsukishima who huffed and rolled his eyes. He was gettig sick of tired of the situation. Everyone knew how (Name) felt about Tanaka. Well everyone except Tanaka apparently.

He was tired of seeing this everyday. So when practice finished Tsukishima made his way over to where (Name) was picking up the volleyballs. "Why do you keep chasing that idiot? We all know he doesn’t like you back. So why? Why keep trying when you know you won't succeed?" (Name) dropped the volleyball and stared at him.

(Name) opened and closed his mouth a few times, but didn't say anything. He turned and looked at the said male who was chasing after Kiyoko. Yet again. (Name) sighed and looked back at the male in front of him. "I don't know. I've liked him for so long. I honestly don't know."

Tsukishima sighed. "Well find someone else to fawn over then. I'm tired of seeing this everyday. Just move on already." (Name) flinched and looked down. Playing with his shirt. "Move on to who? Nobody would want to be with me." Tsukishima frowned more before sighing. "I-I like you."

(Name) froze. Had he heard that right? "What?" "I said, I like you idiot." (Name) looked so confused. "Why?" Tsukishima blushed and looked away. "I just do!" (Name) frowned. "That isn't an answer Tsukishima." Tsukishima clicked his tounge and took a deep breath. "Y-You're a good guy." (Name) held his breath. "You're always helping the idiots. You don't give up on them, even if others tell you to."

"You always have a smile and you always make my day better. You've helped me find a reason to enjoy volleyball. You make me enjoy playing and you make me not want to give up." (Name)'s eyes filled with tears. By now the whole gym was watching. Tsukishima pulled (Name) into a hug, and whispered into his ear. "So give me a chance please?"

~

Its been a month since (Name) and Tsukishima got together. Almost everyone was happy for them. Well everyone except Tanaka.

As a laughing (Name) entered the gym, Tsukishima followed behind him. An arm wrapped around his waist and a soft smile on his face. Sugawara entered behind the two clutching his sides. The other third and first years followed through. The second years had already been in the gym. It looked like they were having a great time.

So why does Tanaka's heart hurt so much seeing how happy his is? Noya raced towards the new happy couple. Jumping around the two. Momentarily frightening (Name) who stumbled back into his boyfriend. Sugawara started laughing again along with everyone else. Tanaka couldn't move his eyes fro the scene.

When was the last time (Name) even talked to him? Much less even looked in his direction. Tanaka frowned. Grabbing at the shirt were his heart was. His chest ached at the scene. Tanaka went to talk to (Name), but was interupted when his uncle grabbed (Name) by the back of his shirt.

Kenshin gave Tsukishima a look to release his nephew. Which he reluctantly did, not wanting to run laps. Like he had to do last time he refused to give up his boyfriend. (Name) laughed at his boyfriends pouting face. He was so glad he gave the taller male a chance. He was so happy, the most happiest he's ever been.

Tanaka watched the scene with pain filled eyes. Ennoshita gripped his shoulder softly. "I kept telling you to stop ignoring him, and to give him a chance. Look where that got you. Kiyoko is dating Yachi. (Name) got with Tsukishima. This was your own fault you know." Then Ennoshita made his way over to the group and ruffled (Name)'s hair. Earning a groan and pout from the said male.

Tanaka thought for a moment. If he had given (Name) a chance, could he had made him this happy? Would (Name) still light up the gym with his smile and laugh? Tanaka's frowned deepened and he looke away from the scene. He should be happy, so why is he so sad and hurt?

[iambic-stan]

Concertina

Writing this story was very therapeutic for me. I hope someone else, cardiophile or otherwise, can get some comfort and reassurance out of it, too.

"I'm not policing what you think and dream," was the lyric I fixated on, though it was only the first verse of the song.  Every explanation of the song "Concertina" I'd read contradicted my own interpretation.  Wasn't it mostly a song about feeling bold enough to be strange, even if it was frightening?  There was applause in the bar when I finished, and made me feel like the risk of a new track selection had paid off.  Tori clapped with the most vigor, as she usually does.

"Girl, who sang that one?" she asked, noting that it was different from my usual selections like Stevie Nicks and Pat Benetar.  I stared at her drink, something with pineapple and gin if I recalled, with this hypnotic red-orange-yellow ombre effect.  Without taking my eyes off of it, I said, "It was a Tori Amos song.  Not a big hit or anything though.  You share a name," I said, lightly touching her shoulder, "You should sing something of hers one night."

"Not if the DJ has anything Taylor," she laughed.  It was fair.  Tori loved to sing Taylor Swift at karaoke, just like how she loved to talk about Gaylor theories, analyze her lyrics, speculate about what her various IG and Tumblr posts might foretell, and scour Stubhub and every other possible site for the least-bankrupting concert tickets.  I was just along for the ride, though I had a couple of her albums at home myself.

"Ok, do something from Lover," I suggested.  

"I don't know.  What if all they have is "YNTCD?" she whined, abbreviating Taylor's divisive LGBTQ anthem from 2019, one that I happened to enjoy despite any criticism.  

"I know you like it, and maybe I'm being a terrible Swiftie, but isn't she just trying to hijack our trauma and claim it as hers?  *Unless* she is gay but didn't want to say so explicitly in the song.  It's great that she gave so many queer people screen time.  I didn't even know who Billy Porter was until I saw the video.  But then again, why did she make it about resolving her beef with Katy Perry?  That was so random.  Anyway, I'll see what I can do...for you, Elena."  She ran her hand down my arm and then squeezed my hand for a second.  She's drunk, I thought, but I appreciated the affection.  Her hand was soft and it felt right--sensual without the suggestion of something more.  I wouldn't want anything more.  

Well, that wasn't entirely true.  I had come to feel at home with Tori over the past year--my first close friend since college who also happened to be queer.  I had lingered longer when hugging her, and since she knew I was asexual, I didn't think she ever took anything the "wrong" way.  At home I had a bright magenta stethoscope that sat on my nightstand, waiting.  But since I'd never told Tori that 1) I loved heart sounds, 2) loved using stethoscopes, and 3) wanted to use one with her, my stethoscope could have been waiting for Godot.  I had strongly considered putting her (the stethoscope--named Alex for my love of Wizards of Waverly Place) in the living room so that Tori could just happen to notice her while we were watching a movie.  But I played the conversation out in my head and felt mortified with every possible script I wrote.  Still, whenever I pictured her wearing the binaurals and listening to my heart, I felt like skipping through a field of daisies.  It just seemed like I was struggling with level one of a video game while ravenously reading walkthroughs of the battle with the final boss I might never meet.  Not that it was a game to me--my love of heart sounds was and always had been one of the most important things in my life.  It kept me sane and grounded, and most of all, it was how I felt close to someone I cared about.

I felt a bit of envy as I watched her throw her arm around the DJ, whose adorable curly head of hair and petite stature brought to mind Jorgeous from one of my favorite shows--Rupaul's Drag Race.  But I wasn't jealous that Not-Jorgeous was enjoying Tori's affection; I wished I could have that sort of magnetism that drew everyone to me and put them immediately at ease.  Trauma had prevented me from being so gregarious.  I watched as four more karaoke singers ran up to Tori, happy to see a familiar face (she was there every week) and get their expected hug.  No, I didn't necessarily want that much attention, I realized--I only wanted the confidence and grace to be completely open with her.

When I heard the first few sharp, synth-laden notes, I knew exactly what song it was.  Tori was deadly serious in her delivery and everyone in the bar turned to gaze at this tall, striking woman who would almost look imposing if her face weren't so soft and kind.  "Combat, I'm ready for combat," she sang, and I was shocked that the DJ would have this track from Taylor's Lover album that we could agree on.  In a moment of accountability that Taylor-haters never acknowledge, the singer tells us she's been "the archer" and "the prey," and feared her propensity for causing hurt as well as her own crippling wounds might make her difficult to live with.  As Tori deftly crescendoed her way into the bridge (I had been given numerous lectures on her distinctive bridges), I felt like my heart beat louder as well.  Suddenly embarrassed, I turned away and stepped onto the bar's patio, my long wrap skirt catching a doorknob in my haste.  I pulled it out and turned to look at the wisteria still bright near sundown and the brick water feature with the goldfish.  There was a couple in the corner deep in conversation, voices so hushed I couldn't make out a single word. That was my last drink, I thought, staring at the crescent moon and the smattering of stars I could see in spite of light pollution.  I felt too much; why didn't alcohol make me numb like it did everyone else?

"Hey, did you like it?" I heard her say behind me.  I turned and saw the sheepish grin on her face.

"Oh, it was beautiful!" I exclaimed.  "I was just out here getting some air is all."  

"I was thinking about what you said last week."  She came closer and put her arms around me as she said it.  My head landed near her chest, and I could almost hear something if it weren't for her thick jacket.  I let myself fall into her embrace.  "I think it would be exciting, actually.  I want to do it.  I've never done that with anyone before," she continued.

I racked my brain and tried to remember what she could be talking about, slowly recalling that I'd had 3 cocktails and 2 shots last week.  There were a few portions of my last karaoke night that I didn't recall at all.  "Wait, what are you talking about?"

She looked at me, her eyes crinkled a little.  Gently, she pushed my hair out of my face.  "You're such a silly drunk and you don't remember any of it," she said, shaking her head.  "You surprised the hell out of me by talking about having a stethoscope and wanting to listen to my heartbeat.  And that you wanted me to listen to your heartbeat.  And I was speechless because that seemed like such a weird, random thing to say.  But then I thought about it and I'm really curious now.  None of my girlfriends ever wanted to do something like that.  Not that you're my girlfriend, but a friend who happens to be a girl, anyway.  I'm down."

I breathed in sharply.  How could I have said all of that without realizing what I was divulging?  My heart was really pounding then, and as if she read my mind, she placed her hand on my chest.  "Oh!" she squeaked, surprised.  "Am I embarrassing you?  Please don't feel that way!  I guess I should've thought you might've forgotten, like that time you went on for like 10 minutes about whether Drag Race All Stars is rigged like you were the only person in the room and had zero recollection of it the next day."  Without really thinking, I quickly placed my hand over hers, holding it fast to my chest.  Her hand so near my heart felt just right somehow.  I closed my eyes and only opened them when she pulled away to check her phone.

"Our Uber is on its way.  I told them to go to your apartment.  Is that ok?  Mine is a mess and Savannah has her boyfriend over, anyway.  He always brings that cheap, stinky weed.  Plus, we could watch more Babylon 5.  I want to see if the praying mantis thing is a 'legitimate businessman' ha."

The N'Grath reference made me smile.  "That sounds great," I almost slur, grinning like an idiot.

Mollie, my dachshund, is almost wider than she is long, so it's a struggle for her to make it up to the couch to properly greet Tori when she comes over.  This night was no different.  "She doesn't even eat that much," I said for probably the twentieth time.  "It's like she just has the worst possible metabolism, poor babe."  I stroked under her chin.

The DVD was loaded, and with the confidence that only alcohol could summon in me, I'd stealthily transferred Alex from my bedroom to the coffee table in the living room while Tori was in the bathroom.  When she emerged, she smiled all big and plopped back down on the couch.  My voice boomed in my head when I picked up the stethoscope and said, "This is Alex.  She was named for Alex Russo, you know, when I was younger.  Well, not that much younger.  But still.  Yes, I know it was a kids' show," I say shyly, wondering why I can't shut up.

Tori laughed and picked her up, turning the chestpiece around over and over again to switch from diaphragm to bell, hearing that satisfying click each time.  "She doubles as a fidget toy, I see," she said.  "Oh what's that?" I had to follow her gaze because I was staring at her chest (not her breasts--give me some credit) rising and falling and could barely think of anything else.  She picked up a pill bottle from the coffee table, one that I usually put away when someone is over out of an overabundance of caution. But I hadn't realized we were both coming back here tonight.  "Spiro?" she asked.  "I used to take that, like in my 20s when my acne was a lot worse.  What do you take it for?" she asked innocently.

I looked up at her, struck dumb and wordless.  We both stared in silence for a few seconds too long, and that was when it dawned on me.  Elena, she doesn't know, you moron.  You're about to ask her to do something intimate and she doesn't know.  Does it matter?  Maybe, maybe not.  I sighed.  This was not the way I wanted her to find out.  What if she changed her mind, decided I'm not one of her girl friends after all?  What if she declared this some kind of "trick"?  What if she got mad, felt betrayed, and blabbed all over social media?  What if it got out at work?  This wasn't something to play with, I realized, and it made me feel like I was suffocating suddenly, imagining all the worst case scenarios. They flicked through my brain rapidly, like someone pressing the lever on one of those retro viewfinders at lightning speed, taking in all of the little thumbnails in a blur.  I gasped and then deliberately began to breathe in and out very slowly and evenly.  I grabbed the arm of the couch as if I was falling.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry.  You don't have to answer that.  It's none of my business," she insisted apologetically.  I could tell she was uncomfortable.  I had made her uncomfortable.  But it didn't feel like there was any escaping it now.  The mood had changed dramatically, all thanks to my reaction to her question, and as much as I yearned for her to listen to my heart and had pictured it many times in the last few months, it was pounding because I was terrified.  She put Alex down on the couch, where Mollie reached over to lick her eartips, and took my hand.  "What's wrong?" she whispered.

I looked up at her and it felt like someone else's voice when I choked out, "I'm trans."  Her brow furrowed.  When she didn't respond right away, I added, in a whispered rush, "I grew up a boy.  I mean I'm not one.  I never was.  I thought you knew.  That's what the prescription is for."  I exhaled loudly, then realized I'd been staring at the floor and not facing Tori.  She let my hand go, almost in slow-motion, and she looked at my body as though she was seeing it for the first time.  Oh god, I winced.  Please don't look for masculine things.  

"I'm such an idiot," she finally said, almost inaudibly.  I stared in horror as she said,  "Why didn't I know?!?"  

I felt my mouth go dry.  My voice was hoarse.  "It's not like I wanted everyone to know," I said.  "It's not like I want to lose my job."

"Oh, Elena!" she exclaimed.  "You weren't thinking it would make a difference, were you?"  When I didn't respond, she wrapped her arms tightly around me, and tears flooded my vision.  "You're one of my best friends.  You're my only friend who will go with me to karaoke, for one," she laughed.  "You're the only person besides my mom who listened to me carry on about my undying devotion to Amari, even after the third time she fucking cheated.  Not my finest moment, but that woman had a hold on me."  I inadvertently let out a snort, remembering her beautiful but treacherous ex. 

She kept one arm around me and reached again for Alex.  "She's probably got Mollie slobber on her now," I pointed out.

"Ha, I'm not worried about it," Tori said.  I watched her insert the ear tips, thinking she had a 50/50 chance of putting them in correctly, and she managed it.  There was something transformative about her wearing the binaurals, and it dried my tears to see it.  She was only about ten years my senior, but in that moment I felt like the child I was always meant to be--one who was free to play how I wanted, with whatever toys I wanted, and just be who I was without being called names I didn't even understand.  She was the older, wiser one who could really see me.  I was safe.  She unfastened just the top button of my shirt and I looked at her face as I could feel the coolness of the metal circle on my skin.

A minute passed, then another, and they were brief but filled with knowing that she could hear me so well.  "That's so cool," she said softly.  "It was fast at first and now it's slow and steady.  I kind of feel like...I know you in a new way," she smiled and looked at my face before looking back down at the instrument.  I felt so happy I thought I could cry again.  She moved the chestpiece around--left and right and center, then between my breasts.  "It sounds different in different areas," she observed.  "Like, the first sound is louder in some places and the second is louder in others."

"You're listening near a different valve each time," I whispered, thrilled that she heard those nuances that most ordinary people don't seem attuned to.  She nodded, the look on her face one of wonder.  I breathed along with her for another few minutes while she listened, and it felt like the sort of connection I only dreamed of feeling, knowing that most people don't "get" this.  I felt almost reborn, and completely satiated. 

When it was my turn to listen, I tried to push past my reservations and self-doubt.  "Is it ok if I put this under your shirt?" I asked tentatively, pointing while holding the chestpiece.  

"Girl, yes!" she practically sputtered.  "After all the poking around I just did?  It's only fair," she laughed.

Mollie jumped up to grab and lick my hand as I moved to place the stethoscope on Tori's chest, and we both had to stop what we were doing to laugh.  When I slipped it underneath her blouse, the sound was clear and strong.  She watched my eyes as I breathed in several systoles and diastoles and it made her smile.  First, I listened for the semilunar valves--aortic and pulmonic, then, gaining confidence in what could have been an uncomfortable endeavor, moved downward to listen properly at the atrioventricular valves--tricuspid and mitral.  Tori leaned forward so I could easily access these different auscultation points.  I stayed at each one for awhile, trying to commit this sound to memory in case we never did this again.  When I was finished, she said, "Wow, that was kind of a vulnerable feeling but not in a bad way."

"You sounded so, so beautiful," I told her softly, and was pleased when that display of raw emotions didn't elicit a raised eyebrow.  This wasn't a night I'd forget anytime soon.

Thanks so much for reading! If you're able and would like to, click here to donate to the Trans Lifeline, a hotline that provides life-saving assistance to trans people, staffed by trans people.

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Weeks in Review (March 31-April 13, 2024)

It took forever (maybe they were waiting on the returns for Godzilla x Kong), but Apple TV+ has finally greenlit season 2 of Monarch: Legacy of Monsters. According to its listing on the WGA site, it'll run from 2024 to 2025. Multiple spinoffs are also in development at Apple; no details on those yet.

Speaking of Godzilla x Kong, it continues to do well, staying #1 at the domestic box office in its second weekend and falling to #2 (behind Civil War) in its third. Current totals are $158 million domestic and $437 million worldwide. It'll soon pass the domestic gross of Kong: Skull Island and the total gross of Godzilla vs. Kong.

Godzilla vs. The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers II #1 promises more of everything: more heroes (the White Ranger joins our heroes from the first comic), more villains (including Psycho Ranger Ghidora up there), and more alternate universes. Godzilla gets a bit buried in all the Ranger antics though.

A couple of kaiju series debuted on TV too: Kaiju No. 8 and Season 2 of Chibi Godzilla Raids Again. The former followed the manga very closely, and as such didn't really keep my attention; hopefully it innovates a bit more going forward. Chibi Godzilla's as irreverent as ever.

Tsuburaya Productions has released preliminary information on the next installment of the Ultra Series, Ultraman Arc. The logline:

A town called Hoshimoto City... On Mt. Shishio, there is a gigantic object towering above the city. Named "Monohorn," (モノホーン, Monohōn) it is actually a kaiju’s horn stuck in the ground since an incident 16 years ago. After the incident known as "K-DAY" in which kaiju appeared all over the world at the same time, monster disasters have become commonplace. In Japan, the Global Defense Force (GDF) uses force to deal with them, while SKIP works closely with the community in scientific investigations and evacuation guidance to prevent the occurrence and aggravation of kaiju disasters. SKIP has also been investigating the Monohorn, the horn of the galactic beast Monogelos (モノゲロス, Monogerosu) that appeared on K-DAY. Yuma, then only 7 years old, was camping with his parents in Mt. Shishio when Monogelos attacked. After miraculously surviving unscathed, he decided to pursue research into monster biology. Despite his traumatic past, he has not lost his “power of imagination” to dream. As a rookie investigator, Yuma joined SKIP and was assigned to the Hoshimoto City Branch. Not long after, another large-scale monster disaster occurs in Hoshimoto City. As Yuma sees the desperate people in front of him, a strong will springs into his mind — “I want to protect them!” At the moment when this strong and straightforward desire welled up from the bottom of his heart, Yuma hears the voice of Rution  (ルティオン,  Rution) a being of light that he once saw as a child: “You and I are one and the same… Unleash your imagination!” When a mysterious light appears in Yuma's hand and envelops his body, the unleashed power of imagination unites light and man and he transforms into Ultraman Arc, the Giant of Light who protects the future! Alongside his precious friends, Yuma, as well as Ultraman Arc, races towards his everlasting dream!

Yuma is played by Yuki Totsuka, while Takanori Tsujimoto is the lead director. He's directed for the series since Ultraman X, but this is his biggest assignment to date.

After beginning to release select Movie Monster Series figures in the States, Bandai America is now fully back in the Godzilla game, with articulated figures, 5-inch vinyls, blind box figures, and transforming eggs all up for preorder at the Godzilla Store and other toy sites. The eggs come from the 2014 Godzilla-E.G. line and the rest is all-new. Not much of a selection so far, but with how big Godzilla is right now, I'm sure there'll be more to come.

SRS Cinema has opened preorders for its War of the Ninja Monsters: Jaron vs. Goura Blu-ray, due in late July or August. Shinpei Hayashiya's latest epic, it'll come with behind-the-scenes footage and maybe a commentary track, which would be nice given how little information is available about his films online.

[novankenn]

the Nephokinetic

(Users can utilize vapor in combat, whether it be releasing waves of mist to disorientate their opponents or conceal themselves in order to land sneak attacks, or using vapor to create weapons or having it accompany the user's own attacks.)

RPV was a man down. Jaune Arc their former leader having vanished one night, for no discernable reason, at least to them. So after missing the 40th Vytal Festival due to being a member short, the trio moved into their second year... proving their ability to cope and move forward, despite their disadvantage.

/==/

Pyrrha, Ren and Nora disembarked the bullhead. The small village they were sent to inspect, had no landing pad so the vehicle had to land in a nearby prepared area. Behind them Professor Peach stepped off. It was a second year supervised inspection mission.

The goal of the exercise was to teach the students how to see the strengths and weaknesses in a settlement or hamlet's defensive structures. To help them in those times they were dispatched to protect a settlement how to best utilize the resources at hand.

Their approved site was Fort Vale. A heavily fortified community was situated near the coast to the east of Vale proper, however for some reason while on route the destination was changed to their current location. A small unnamed village of maybe a dozen families or so, protected by a stout wooden palisade, and a few automated sentry turrets.

Peach knew at one glance the place was a death trap. Any serious Bandit or Grimm assault and the place would fold like a house of cards. Yet Peach was also aware of the side objective. There was someone of interest to Ozpin in the area... and she and her charges were the closet available team. Even if team RPV was a member short.

The trio of students lead by Professor Peach closed upon the sturdy-looking main gate. Showing her ID she and her charges were quickly allowed entry. Once past the gate Peach turned to face RPV.

"Now. I want you all to wander about. Take you time. We'll meet back at the gate in a hour." Peach let her eyes glid over the three young adults. "Pay close attention, and when we get back together I want to know from each of you what is good about these defenses... and what is bad. Any questions?"

Ren raised his hand.

"Mr Ren?"

"I thought we were supposed to be inspecting Fort Vale? Is there a reason for..." Ren didn't finish but looked around. The statement was however made.

"It was changed mid-route." Professor Peach informed the trio. "But the assignment is still the same and what you see and deduce here is applicable in other places. Any further questions?"

Pyrrha and Nora remained silent.

"Very well get to it. I'm going to have a chat with whomever is in charge of this place."

It took a little prodding and about twenty minutes but soon Peach found herself leaning against the counter of the General Store, speaking to the proprietor, who just happened to also be the woman in charge of the small settlement.

"So what brings Beacon out here?" the woman named Brittany Birch. "Should I be telling people to start packing?"

"No. It's an inspection exercise, and in fact I was going to ask you if there was a reason for us to actually be here instead of Fort Vale?"

"Well I can tell you we've not put in a call in for Huntsmen." Brittany replied, "No real need once the young fella showed up."

"Young fellow?"

"Yeah, young guy, was just wandering the road. Arrive about three weeks ago. Good thing too..."

"Why?"

"Had a small grimm incursion happen a couple days later." Brittany relayed, "Bad for us too. Pushed our defenses all most to the bring..."

"How big of a group?"

"One or two dozen." Brittany replied, "Nothing a larger settlement couldn't handle, but as you can see... we're still just scraping by."

"Well I assume you made it through... you're still here, obviously."

"Well it was because of the kid." Brittany informed Peach, "Without him we would have been over run."

"Was he that strong a fighter? Up to two dozen grimm is still a task to handle by one person." Peach commented, "Or did he have a strong semblance?"

"Well I'll say this... It was something else."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't really know how to explain it... but the kid used the grimm's own bodies against each other..."

"That makes no sense. Did he control a grimm and make it attack the others?"

"No... you know how a grimm evaporate after dying?"

"Yes."

"Somehow he manipulated that... used it against the pack. I mean it was seriously disturbing... the more grimm that went down, the more powerful and plentiful his attacks and defenses were..."

Peach stood there in silence, her lips pressed together. What the head-woman was speaking off... was impossible. Someone capable of using the essence of grimm as a weapon? There had to be more to it.

"Is this... individual still in the community?" Peach inquired. "I would like to speak with them... if I could."

"He should be. For all his help I put him up at my house. He's got a room in the attic. Private, warm and safe."

The incessant and rapid ringing of an bell sounded in the distance.

[perpetuallypottytraining]

(im the anon that said regression is not nsfw)

oh okay i get it kind of :thumbs_up:

do u talk abt potty training stuff on ur main age regression acc too or is it just this one? cuz if u do i might follow idk hehe

okay, I thiiiink these are the same person? Probably? Unclear. I'll answer both here, for clarity.

1 - No, I don't talk about potty training stuff on my main, not anymore. I moved those posts here a couple of years ago. The only content that's there are maybe some reblogs from other regressors.

2 - Okay, first of all, age regressors did NOT come up with those terms, nor do they have exclusive rights to use them. Those terms have been used by people for, like, ever. Parents calling their kids "little ones", family members calling out "littles, come over here!" to refer to any younger members, the obvious origins of "mom" and "dad" and their variants, and "caregivers" being tied to both people who care for babies, children, the elderly, and those with disabilities.

If anything, age players have more rights to the terms "littles" and "caregiver" in the context that we're using on this site. They're the ones who originated/popularized them. I know this because I was here, on this site, in 2016, when age regressors decided to split off from the sfw age play community, and there was legitimately tons of discourse about who had the "right" to those terms.

(who here remembers the chire and the other handful of communities that attempted to exclude anyone who liked the parental nicknames and the usage of the word "little" in their regression? I do. god, do I remember. this is the main reason that a lot of old regression blogs specify that they're "community free regression")

Second, I... don't? Tag anything here as ageplay? Everything here is just tagged with omo tags, then with assorted organizational tags - there is nothing here tagged with agere or ageplay - just posts that use the very vague term of "little" and the other term of "caregiver" within the post itself.

(which, I just feel the need to repeat, is a word that even normies use!! my own parents, aunts, and uncles call me and my cousins littles!!! Outside of that, "Littles" is a shared community term!! Littles and Caregivers, as we use them, originated from Dominant Daddy/Mommy and Little Boy/Little Girl - it's the gender neutral version!! Cg/L! Regressors are the ones who decided to keep it!! Because it's vague!! That's intentional!!)

But, yeah, you're allowed to feel your feelings, and, honestly, the fact that you're uncomfortable with the "playing grown-up" tag is something that I anticipated when I made that tag - that it might make people uncomfortable! But, I've been working on making my own boundaries and enforcing them, while not immediately catering to make other people comfortable at the detriment of my own comfort/space.

This is my blog. People didn't like when I put non-sexual omo on my agere blog because it helped me regress. That's okay, and even I became uncomfortable with it after a while, so! I made this blog! It's not my agere blog. It's my soft omo blog. It's nsfw and for adults only. And, only just recently, I decided to take advantage of those two facts and put some other nsfw posts here. I do not want to make yet another sideblog for the handful of "icky" posts I'd like to reblog, especially when this blog is already here.

A nice thing about Tumblr is that tags are now blockable, so if, for some reason, you wanted to follow me still, you'd still be able too view all my other posts while excluding that specific tag. Or you can block me, if you wanted to - you curate your own online experience, and I'll hold no ill will towards you for making sure that you're comfortable and safe.

As for saying thats someone can't be both an age regressor and an age player? Literally what are you talking out????? Huh???? Do you think that adults can't age regress and slip into the mindset of a child while also being capable of, while in adult headspace, in a consensual relationship, roleplay as a child for sexual gratification??? Those are two different things!!! Ageplay is roleplay, and as such, one is capable of adult things! Agere is someone slipping into the headspace of a child!! Healthy communication with one's partner makes it clear what's okay in one headspace and what's okay in the other!!!

I'm not even an ageplayer and even I know that it's possible to do both 😭😭😭 and I just read fanfiction and people's actual blogs!!

As for your sign off, um. Okay? I don't even interact with a.geredips posts and blogs.... even if they're very relevant to me and my regression! Not even with my main!! (I'm also very shy and timid and a bit scared to interact) And, on my main, if people who follow me start breaking people's DNI, I literally softblock or block them - if they can't follow people's boundaries, then they can't interact! I'm just one blog, and I doubt that if anyone wanted to demonize age regressors, they need any help from me - people who deliberately mistag are probably more than enough tbh.

Ageplay and age regression, like it or not, was cut from the same cloth - a cloth made out of a gradient from black to white, with shades of grey all in between. Like a baby blanket! Black/ageplay and ABDL on one side, white/agere on the other, with you and me and my friends and mutuals somewhere in the middle, all spread out across!

Plenty of adults don't think anyone should return to the comfort of childhood things, and look at the whole blanket with scorn and disgust. Cutting off more and more of the blanket, because you think that my grey isn't as palatable as your grey, is not going to change these people's minds. Both of us live in the grey zone, and I personally think that by accepting more of the grey, our baby blanket will be strong enough to handle anything - even and especially people who think our blanket should be torn to shreds.

[jokeroutsubs]

Bojan and Kris' interview for Slovenian news site Siol.net (2. 9. 2022)

Joker Out does what only Big Foot Mama and Siddharta have done so far

Well, now we know where we will be on 6 October next year. In Stožice, at the Joker Out concert. The young musicians have never hidden their goals, they have predicted it, because the next logical move for the hottest band in Slovenia at the moment is to fill the biggest arena in Slovenia. "If there ever was a time for that, it's now. I'm more scared of the question of what's next," the band's guitarist Kris Guštin asked himself in an interview with Siol.net. But the guys have an answer for that too. After Stožice, they're aiming for the Balkans, and then, who knows where the new wave will take them.

We spoke to Bojan Cvjetićanin and Kris Guštin from Joker Out on the day of the release of their second studio album Demoni. We met in a bar behind Bežigrad, just a few metres away from where their homes are. Kris came by bike, Bojan by car, as he had another interview before our talk. Both visibly tired. It is an understatement to say that their schedules are packed. This summer they played 30 concerts, released a new album, shot a video for their first single Katrina, they have a big concert in Križanke coming, and an even bigger one in Stožice next year. Among the legendary Slovenian rock bands, only Big Foot Mama and Siddharta managed to sell out Stožice.

Shagadelic rock band Joker Out consists of Jure Maček, Jan Peteh and Martin Jurkovič, in addition to Kris Guštin and Bojan Cvjeti��anin (pictured). Photo by Ana Kovač

First of all, congratulations, your second studio album Demons is out. How would you describe the new album in a few words?

Kris: Thank you. If we don't compare it to the first one, this album is our ultimate break up album. If we compare it to the first one, this one was made in a much shorter time, and I think that's actually a plus and not a minus of this album. It's much more genuine and polished, even though it was made in five months. This album represents our actual creative state at the moment, whereas the first album represented our creative state two years before the release, because it was made over such a long period of time.

Bojan: Creatively it's much freer than the first album. We dared to do more, and I'm glad we didn't fall into the trap of wanting to be commercially satisfying just for the sake of success. The album is much more mature both lyrically and in terms of arrangement. The first album was a patchwork from the beginning of our creative journey to when it came out. Whereas the new album is really a reflection of who we are now, in this moment. It's our present, it's our imprint.

Katrina is the name of the single you used to announce the release of your new album. Who or what is Katrina? Do we all have a Katrina?

Bojan: I believe that everyone has a Katrina at some point in their life. Who my Katrina is is irrelevant to this story. Katrina is someone or something that is gnawing away at us and destroying us in some way, but we keep coming back to it anyway.

Kris: I am my own Katrina.

You shot the music video in four hours, you decided to do it in black and white, and only the band members are in it. Who is the concept mastermind behind the music video?

Kris: Yes, we shot the music video in a couple of hours, even though it took all day to shoot due to other commitments. It's like this when you realise there's only a week to go before the song comes out, and you wonder what to do now (laughs). But even if we had had more time, I don't know if we would have done anything differently. The masterminds are Joker Out and Mark Pirc.

Bojan: The vision for the video was that it had to be very raw and radiate energy. This song is probably the most edgy, and I think it's the most reminiscent of Omamljeno telo (*Intoxicated Body) from the first album. The video for Omamljeno telo is also just a stylish black and white story. The first single from the second album is somehow Omamljeno telo five years later.

With the song Katrina, for which they also recorded a video, Joker Out announced their second studio album Demons. It was five months in the making and, as they say, is more sophisticated lyrically and in terms of arrangements than the first album. Photo by Mark Pirc

You celebrated the release of Katrina in a very special way, by diving into the ice-cold Kamnik Bistrica (T.N.: an Alpine river in northern Slovenia).

Kris: Niko, our head of security, the all-round father of the band, had been persuading us all summer to go for a dive in Kamnik Bistrica, and it just happened to coincide with the release of the song. It was great to be able to relax for the last hour before we embarked on a new chapter of our creative journey. We had breathing exercises before the dive, and when you opened your eyes and looked at the Kamnik Alps, it was really beautiful.

Bojan: I loved it, we felt like Vikings (laughs). We were guided through the whole experience by Jernej and it was very spiritual. In one hour we came together as a community to perform this ritual. It was cathartic.

Most of the texts were penned by you, Bojan. When it comes to inspiration, you have said in several interviews that you do not draw from your own life experiences. The second album lets you know that guys are growing up, gaining experience. So was there anything different about writing this album, did you draw more from yourself?

Bojan: With this album I can say that the lyrics are my story. Here, I've drawn exclusively from myself. Except for the song "Plastika" (Plastics).

Kris: It's still a personal experience anyway. In the song Plastika, he expresses his feelings through other people, similar to, say, Bele sanje (White Dreams) on the previous album.

Besides your music, your fashion style is also evolving. It kind of works that the music you make and your style go hand in hand. Does this happen naturally or do you adapt your personal style to the music? Who takes care of your visual style?

Kris: We are aware that the visual style, together with the musical and sound style, is part of the overall image of each artist. We want to do that ourselves, but we also know that it's necessary and that's why we work with certain stylists. For the cover of Demoni, Damir Raković Ponorelii, who will also dress us for Križanke, took care of the styling, and we hope for further cooperation. But today we dressed ourselves (laughs).

"The first album was a patchwork from the beginning of our creative journey to when it came out. Whereas the new album is really a reflection of who we are now, in this moment. It's our present, it's our imprint." tells us the singer of Joker Out. Photo by Primož Lukežič.

The album features ten new songs, including two in Serbian. Does this foreshadow a more serious, planned entry into the Balkan music market?

Bojan: I've always wanted to write something in Serbian, because my ancestors are from there. I always wanted my grandmother to understand what I was singing. When I show her a new song, it's great, but when you don't understand something, you can't like it to the max. That was my wish at first, but in the last year or two, everyone in the band has had the wish to go to the Balkans. The fact that there are two songs in Serbian on the album indicates the beginning of that journey.

What is your favourite song on the new album?

Kris: It depends, it changes from week to week. At the moment my favourite songs are Demoni (Demons) and Ne bi smel (I shouldn't have).

Bojan: I have my own moments too, but right now my favourite songs on the album are Padam (Falling), Novi val (New Wave), Ona (She) and Demoni.

NGVOT is a song from the new album, for which Kris wrote the music and lyrics four years ago. "Just because I wrote a song doesn't mean it's my favourite. Of course it has a special place in my heart, but it would probably be different if I had written it six months ago instead of four years ago." Photo by Mark Pirc

Can we say a few words about Novi val? What is this song about?

Bojan: At the time I wrote the lyrics for Novi val, there were forest fires in the Karst region (T.N.: plateau with lots of forest in southwestern Slovenia). That was the moment when I realised that we were clearly sliding into self-destructiveness as a society. And yet, I feel the call from the people around us and from ourselves to have the will and the desire to not let it be so. It is a kind of call to be who we are, but to say it out loud.

The album will be presented on 9 September at a concert in Križanke. If I'm not mistaken, the tickets are sold out. What can we expect?

Kris: The young Slovenian band will finally perform in Križanke. It's obvious that we are entering a new creative phase and we hope that our Slovenian fans will accept the fact that we are also going to the Balkans.

Bojan: I was thinking this morning that we have a lot of young fans and this concert will probably be the first concert in Križanke for many of them. I hope that they will remember their first concert in Križanke for the fact that they were at a great Joker Out concert.

"At the time I wrote the lyrics for Novi val, there were forest fires in the Karst region. That was the moment when I realised that we were clearly sliding into self-destructiveness as a society." says Bojan about the song Novi val. Photo by Ana Kovač

You've had a summer full of gigs, and it's true to say that you're the hottest band in the country right now. What's the best thing you've received from your fans, or an event that will stay with you forever?

Kris: It's fascinating when you come to a place you've never heard of before and it's full of people under the stage. That's what it was like in Veliko Ubeljsko, for example. That's one of the big things. I remember when we played in Sevnica and we were still taking pictures for 45 minutes after the show. A girl came up to us and, although she was waiting in line for a photo, she said she didn't want a picture with us, she just wanted to tell us how much our music meant to her. Then we talked, and it was refreshing that someone wanted to talk to you and not just take a picture.

Bojan: I agree with everything Kris said. They throw home-made bracelets on stage with names, song titles. That's definitely going to stay in my memory. At Veliko Ubeljsko, a guy from the middle came to the stage and brought me a potted plant. If I'm not mistaken, it was a cyclamen. But this year I had another big moment, and that was to stop getting upset by negative comments. If you want it or not, when you read something nasty, offensive, it just affects you. This year it happened that a person wrote a message saying that she had problems existing in this world and that she was still here because of our music. When I read that, I reflected on it. If, in fact, what we have done has saved just one person's life, it is completely irrelevant if 18 million people tell me that I am a complete loser. We have had at least five or six messages like that this year, and that is a really big thing.

Then do you read the comments online?

Bojan: I can't help it, I go and read. People are really relentless. On the one hand, it's horrifying, but on the other hand, if you don't take it too seriously, it's funny.

Kris: I've read all the comments under our videos. I guess I don't get as affected by criticism as Bojan does. However, I think it's more significant for Bojan because he is the author of the majority of the lyrics. If they attack our songs, they attack him as the author. Personally, I just like to laugh at all the comments.

"If, in fact, what we have done has saved just one person's life, it is completely irrelevant if 18 million people tell me that I am a complete loser." Photo by Ana Kovač

What's the most bizarre, unusual request from a fan?

Bojan: Collectively, it is extremely annoying that we're probably the only band that's expected to organise a three-hour photo shoot with anyone who wants it after the show. The organisers have this idea that they're going to invite us to the gigs, and we're obliged to let anyone backstage, laugh and be nice to everyone. That can be very disturbing after a concert when you are exhausted and need some peace. After two, three nights in a row of shows, we are exhausted. Don't get us wrong, we always like to take time to take photos, talk to our fans, but sometimes it's not doable.

Kris: We're considered a phenomenon. Especially this year, some of the organisers were surprised by the response of our audience and then wanted to promise something more to the guests. They promised that everyone would be able to have their photo taken with us.

How has popularity affected your private life in the last two years?

Bojan: I am much more nervous about it.

Kris: It's not the easiest at times, especially, as we said, when the organisers expect us to take photos with everyone after the show when we're completely exhausted. Of course, you don't want to be rude to the fans and you're grateful that they're there to watch and support you. But sometimes it feels like people don't realise that we are only human too and that sometimes we need peace. With Bojan that is the worst, the rest of us are a bit luckier.

You either have stage presence or you don't. You have it, the audience can see it, feel it. What about you, what goes through your mind when you are on stage?

Kris: If it's a good gig, nothing should go through your head. When you start thinking, it's not good.

Bojan: This year, for me or for all of us, the Castle Festival was one where we performed in pure euphoria from start to finish. I couldn't compose myself for three hours after the concert. At some concerts, if I don't catch a good wave of enjoyment, I honestly find myself thinking about everything, from what I'm going to eat for lunch the next day to how I'm going to go home afterwards. You can't be 100% present at all concerts, but we certainly maintain a certain standard of quality at all concerts. Then it depends on whether we "go off" or not.

"If music could save the world, then the world would have been saved a long time ago." Photo by Mark Pirc

Would you ever play for a political party, have you been invited before?

Kris: We have not been invited and we also wouldn''t do it. I don't think it's necessary to put ourselves out there, especially in Slovenia, where we have a rather toxic political environment. When you go to play for one, you immediately "alienate" the other half of your audience, and it's completely unnecessary. It's a little bit disingenuous to be an idol to certain people from a certain point of view, but then you start imposing something on them that you are not really qualified for or capable of.

Bojan: Why should anyone care what our political beliefs are just because we are public figures. Politics and music have nothing in common, except when it comes to musical rebellion. I honestly don't believe in a musical revolution anymore, as far as political revolt is concerned. If music could save the world, then the world would have been saved a long time ago. That is because I think that the best revolutionary songs were written a long time ago, and we are still talking about the same issues as we did ten or 40 years ago. I think politics is a big no for us.

What Siddharta and Big Foot Mama were for the older generation, you are now for the young. How does it feel when they draw parallels between you and legendary Slovenian bands? Do you feel pressure, maybe because Kris's father penned the biggest Slovenian rock hits?

Kris: In the beginning it annoyed us when we were compared to Big Foot Mama, maybe because of my dad, but also because of the music, because five years ago it was all more basic, rock and roll. Then we were compared to Siddharta, and now we are so unique that we can't be compared to anyone, at least not stylistically. Maybe they can compare us to Siddharta, in terms of how much we can do for the young generation. And that's very nice to hear, it's a great honour for us.

Bojan: It's definitely an honour. On my first MP3 player I listened to Big Foot Mama, Siddharta, Trkaj… . Every generation, every child needs, or rather it's good that they have, music to grow up with, to go to school with, to fall in love with for the first time, to dream with. We have succeeded in being that music for new generations. We are very proud of that and we are moving on.

To Stožice, then?

Kris: That's right, 6 October 2023.

For a musician to fill Stožice is practically the highest step in Slovenia. Are you scared?

Bojan: When we filled Cvetličarna twice, Križanke was a very logical next step. We thought about moving the concert from Cvetličarna to Križanke, but because of the beautiful red thread of the story and the steps in our lives, we decided that we would rather do Cvetličarna first and then perform in Križanke. Stožice is three times bigger than Križanke. It is quite scary that this is already our next step.

Kris: If there's ever a time to do it, it's now. I'm more scared of the question of what's next. We are lucky that after we can say that we have filled up Stožice, which is in principle the most you can achieve in Slovenia, we can target the Balkans. We are lucky that nobody knows us in the Balkans and that we will still be able to play there. My biggest fear would be that we would achieve everything in Slovenia and then we would not be able to do anything more.

Bojan: We are really going to the Balkans, where we are absolute nobodies. We are starting from scratch, with only the knowledge and infrastructure we have. Senidah has given us all a little bit of a dream. She is in the Balkans, she has made a very big leap for Slovenian music.

After the big concert in Križanke, where they will present their second studio album, it's time for Stožice for Joker Out. Kris and Bojan admit that it's scary, but now is the right time to take this step. Photo by Ana Kovač

Križanke, Stožice, then it's the Balkans. Where else will your journey take you?

Kris: Los Angeles. The post-production of the second album was done by a producer we got on well with, and we expressed our desire to visit him in Los Angeles. At the time, we hadn't thought about working for the American market yet, but this producer was very impressed with our music. He wrote that he hadn't had such an interesting band "to remix" for years and invited us to record the best songs in English in a studio in Los Angeles and then show them to someone. There are so many possibilities.

Bojan: Maybe Stožice will be brought down, because we'll be doing Madison Square Garden (laughs).

If you could choose any musician, Slovenian or foreign, who would you like to work with in the future?

Kris and Bojan: Among the Slovenian ones, it's Magnifico.

Bojan: Senidah seems to me to be a very big phenomenon. She is a top musician, singer and artist. She is a bohemian personality who was underrated in Slovenia, then she went to the Balkans, where she is the alpha and omega. And then Abba, Kanye West and Pharrell Williams.

Kris: Among the world's stars, Paul McCartney.

You spend a lot of time together. Do you ever get annoyed by each other?

Bojan: We're like brothers. We can love each other, but when we get on each other's nerves, we really get on each other's nerves. But there is an element of brotherhood, not friendship, in the fact that at the end of the day any argument is resolved and we move on as if nothing had happened. It is the same when you have a fight at home and then half an hour later it is all forgotten. We get it out of ourselves and move on.

How do you resolve conflicts within the group? Who has the final say when you can't agree on something, like which songs go on an album?

Kris: It depends on what the decision is. For financial decisions, Martin and I have the final say, for creative matters it's usually Bojan. But in principle, it's a democracy.

Bojan: I don't know if we've ever had such different conflicts of interest that a veto was needed.

Is there any jealousy between you, given that Bojan is the frontman of the band?

Kris: I'm honestly glad that I'm not in Bojan's position.

Bojan: Sometimes I wish I was in a different position. But in the last year we have made it very clear to everybody what the dynamic is, that we are a five-man band. All the commitments, like interviews and so on, were done by all of us. There are five people here and the focus is no longer just on me, as it was at the beginning. We have got rid of that and I don't think there is any basis for jealousy between us. Everyone is in his position because he is the best and because he wants to be there.

There is one last question that we cannot get past. Who is single, who is happily in love?

Kris and Bojan: One is single, the other is in a relationship.

Translation by @kurooscoffee DO NOT REPOST!

[statementlou]

What do you think prompted the it/him reaction today? Yesterday he full on enunciated and nodded and today it was ITx3. It would have made sense for this to have been his reaction yesterday. Idgi.

(this is about Louis consistently singing I love him I hate it vs I love it I hate it in Back To You in a part where he is just singing along with back up vocals and not actually singing into the mic) I saw both videos and honestly no idea- though I would really like to see another angle of the second one, as I don't feel like it's easy to tell what's going on there. But assuming that is what happened, I feel like there are various possibilities; one is that he didn't realize people were saying him until yesterday (they were being very loud recently, but it is worth saying that he can't really hear the crowd unless he takes out his in ears). Or that he was having fun with individuals at shows with it but when he realized how much of a thing it was becoming online was like umm no, which is consistent with his behavior over the last couple years (being shockingly open about his enthusiastic interactions with larry stuff at shows for example, but in ways that can't be proven later) and seems the most likely to me; another which I've suspected all along is that he was singing it that way because it's an off mic part that he just sang the way he wrote it, because that backing part was originally part of the girl part of the duet and, again, he realized what was happening and put the brakes on. As for that, I fully agree with him if he did move to shut it down before it got to be more of a thing- this stuff is fun to have as little in jokes with him, but annoying when everyone screaming it becomes the focal point of the show; pretty sure he'd rather have people excited about his music and having fun together than using his shows as a site to try to prove something about who he sleeps with

[multimuseticles]

You know... I've been drawing ever since I was like 5 years old. It's something I've spent pretty much my entire life doing. The longest I'd ever really go without drawing is like a couple of months maybe, and lately I've been drawing on an almost near daily basis. But if I'm being honest, I'm fairly close to actually quitting.

I still love to draw and I don't really want to stop, but it's getting to a point where AI slop is just entirely taking over the internet. Finding even reference images these days is so difficult because google is filled with AI crap and a lot of actual art sites allow AI art(looking at you Pixiv and DeviantArt).

I used to get a couple of commissions a month just a few years ago. Then covid hit and I got a little less work because people didn't exactly have the same amount of money to spend, which makes perfect sense. But getting closer to the end of covid when people could actually go back to work etc, AI decided to creep its head up and now I'm lucky to get one commission every few months. Originally, AI art was laughable and it was only able to make really stupid shit that was basically illegible. Like that Dall-e thing.

Putting the rest under a read more because it's somewhat long.

But nowadays, a lot of people prefer to use AI than give actual artists attention. Especially now that a lot of big companies are pushing their own AI crap(looking at you Adobe and Meta). Instagram used to be a great place for artists, now its filled with AI crap that Instagram seems to fucking love and is basically training their AI on your own posts. They say you can opt out, but if you live in the USA? You seemingly can't. In the EU you can because of laws, so I was able to opt out. However. I don't trust Meta not to train off my shit anyway.

Then you've got Adobe, which y'know, was a thing for artists to create stuff, be that through Photoshop, Illustrator or even their video editors. But now they're just pushing their lame AI crap to do everything for you, and still charge a ridiculous amount for their service.

Now I'm not just complaining because I'm getting less work. It's just depressing that creativity is dying. Generative AI is being used in video games, movies, tv shows, music, youtube videos, voiceovers and pretty much EVERYTHING else. It's impossible to avoid these days. Sites that allow AI but ask you to tag it so people can hide it doesn't work either, because people just don't tag that shit.

Due to all this AI crap, artists are being accused of using AI to create their art, regardless of if they show proof or not. It hasn't happened to me yet, but I feel it's inevitable simply because I absolutely suck at drawing hands and I can just barely get the hang of them most of the time. A ton of actual artists have been essentially bullied to the point where they don't post their art online anymore, or are forced to change their art style.

It's so much harder for artists to get their work out there anymore because AI is taking over all of these sites so the majority of the stuff you see is generated bullshit. It has led to people being like "Why would I pay someone to do this when I can just write a prompt and get what I want in seconds?" and no matter what you say to people with this line of thought, they just do not give a single shit.

I'm fine with AI to an extent. I think it's fine to just use it for dumb shit between friends, or helping to get a design idea for an OC or something. But the moment you start making money from AI or posting it online and claiming it as your own(and saying that people should credit you if you used it???) is the moment I think it's not okay. Have you seen Facebook or Twitter lately? Filled with really messed up AI images and AI responses. Facebook is rampant with weird and disturbing looking AI generated images and Twitter is 90% bots these days.

This whole post was spurred on by a conversation I saw between two of my friends. One of my friends wanted to get into graphic design, and being the artist of the group and having experience in graphic design, he came to me for advice. He got some very basic stuff done and he was really proud of it. He was showing some of the stuff he made to our other friend who simply responded with an AI generation of the same thing saying "Just use AI man, it's quicker and looks better." It was super depressing to see, especially since I've had conversations about how much I hate generative AI with these same friends.

So at this point I'm on the edge of just stopping. I probably won't, but I'm starting to lose motivation because I feel like there is no safe place to upload my art anymore. Will I stop? Probably not, but the temptation is there. I dunno, fuck generative AI man.

Sorry for the long ass rant, but I'm just getting so fed up with this crap.

[putschki1969]

2024/05/16 Blog post by Wakana 5周年ライブ、ありがとうございました！！〜有楽町で逢えました！！〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Thank You For My 5th Anniversary Live！！〜Meeting At Yurakucho〜

After the live show on Sunday, it was raining in Tokyo the following few days☔️I was glad it didn't rain on the day of the live. I love rain though so I thoroughly enjoyed the sound of rain and wind from the comfort of my home✨I was also thinking that it would be nice if everyone was using the umbrealla from my live merchandise…😊💕

Hello, this is Wakana (0￣▽￣0)／

I feel more excited than usual on rainy days!

Well, last Sunday, on May 12th, I held two successful performances for my "Wakana 5th Anniversary Live ~The"VOICE"Stories~"! This was my very first performance at the venue "I'M A SHOW" in Yurakucho. The location was originally a theater and after a renovation it was turned into this wonderful concert hall. The lobby was also a stylish and spacious 😊I took a lot of pictures so I would like to share them with you today.

First of all, our circle before the 1st performance! ーAn incident occurredー As you can see, I was a couple of beats behind so we weren't in synch with each other. I was like, "eeehhhhh???!!" and tried my best to explan, "your timing is off! It should have been like this!" Everyone was surprised but ended up agreeing😯.

Then we have our circle right before the 2nd performance! (Everyone looks serious here because we were determined to get it right the second time around. The tension was rising considerably…) YAY! ! ! ! ! We did it ! ! !Relief! We were all proud of ourselves. And then of course we had to take a commemorative picture. (From left to right: Drums: Tomoo Tsuruya, Manipulator: Yugo Maeda, Guitar: Koji Ueda, Music Director/Keyboard: Satoshi Takebe, Bass: Kenta Hamasaki)

…Well, actually, thanks to these circles, both performances started out really fun😁! ･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･'(ﾟ▽ﾟ)'･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･ At this venue, the distance between the stage and the audience is very small, and thanks to the slight slope of the audience area, I was able to see each and every person's face very clearly. Since it was my 5th Anniversary Live, I wanted to squeeze in as much of the past five years as possible. As always, Takebe-san did a great job at being a supportive music director by ensuring I was able to do everything my own way while still keeping things realistic. I hope I was able to convey all of my feelings to everyone. Your response meant the world to me😭✨ I was really happy that we were able to look back on the past five years together in such an intimate environment. I am once again overcome with gratitude, knowing that everyone has been by my side over the past five years, your presence has been more reassuring than anything else😊Thank you very much to everyone who came! ! It was a wonderful time! !

I want to talk about the live in more detail so please join me at my after-talk event tomorrow! ! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／It would be great if those who didn't make it to the live could get an idea of what it was like that day 😆I am looking forward to seeing you tomorrow at 7pm! ! Here is a link => https://wakana-fc.jp/contents/741616

Finally, here are some photos of my stage outfits＼(^o^)／For the main part of the live I was wearing this sky blue dress 😍So fluffy and puffy, I loved it! ! ! ! And for the encore I wore this white dress ♡ I think it has been a while since I have worn a comletely white dress! ! 😲

All right, that's it for today! !See you at tomorrow's live broadcast! ! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

Until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

USEN Live Report for Wakana 5th Anniversary Live 〜THE"VOICE"Stories〜

Link: https://e.usen.com/news/news-event/wakana-5th-anniversary-live.html